From Promise to Ultimatum to Covenant
by storyLil
Summary: An exploration of the events leading up to the final scene of episode 1.17 and a bit beyond.


_This is my first time writing a story. English is not my first language and it hasn't_ _been beta read, had a little trouble with the formatting too. Any mistakes are mine, Nikita isn't. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it._

* * *

 **From Promise to Ultimatum to Covenant**

 _What ravages of spirit_

 _Conjured this tempestuous rage_

 _~ Sarah McLachlan, Do What You Have to Do_

* * *

The thing about having a long way to drive, is that it gives you time to think. A lot of time to think in Nikita's case. Every emotion from rage to grief to hopelessness, doubt and heartbreak had flitted passed in the last several hours. She felt torn, conflicted, overwhelmed... How a few days can change everything and nothing. Actually no, it hadn't just been a few days. It had started on a cold night in a warm room of a Division safe house in St. Petersburg five years ago.

"I will do anything to help you", she'd said when he'd told her what had happened to his wife and daughter. Minutes before this their nearly habitual flirting of years had escalated. Finally, as far as Nikita was concerned, Michael had kissed her and she had given herself up to him as he held himself over her on that lovely plush bed. It hadn't gone any further than that though, he had pulled back and away from her. Refusing to start something new as long as he hadn't completely laid his wife and daughter to rest, peacefully and for eternity. She understood, could empathise quite easily and if it were even possible, fell deeper in love with him for it. Until they returned to Division and Michael had recommended her for deep cover. In Chicago. He'd pushed her away and by doing so broke both their hearts, of that she was certain. She knew why he had done it, what she didn't understand was how he had been able to. Heartbroken, she thought she'd found solace in Daniel's arms. In a lot of ways she had, but there always had been the fact that she had been living a lie. A lie she had desperately needed to be the truth.

Two months ago Nikita had thought she'd have the chance to make good on the promise she'd made half a decade ago in Russia, when she found out Michael had gone off to Uzbekistan alone when intel revealed Kasim would surface after years of being underground. She thought that maybe this would be their second chance. Maybe he would see reason, maybe if they could talk calmly and without the immediate threat of Division hanging over them, maybe he would remember, maybe he would see that she hadn't taken on Division solely out of revenge for Daniel... Despite everything or maybe because of everything, she still held out hope that one day…

"I don't trust you", Michael had said to her in his Tashkent hotel suite and for a moment a feeling of nasty surprise had her heart in an icy grip. Michael thinking she'd come back on a promise to him hurt her and in that moment she wasn't sure if she had actually physically recoiled or if it had just felt like it. The next moment she'd made up an excuse for him. Thinking he might remember differently, that she'd made her promise quickly while she was a little drunk on alcohol and hormones and still tightly in Division's clutches. His grief over his family was so tremendous and his need for revenge so profound. Add up the fact that their meetings since she had started her mission against Division had always had them on opposing sides and clashing brutally nine times out of ten…

She chose to just forget what he said and convinced him of her secondary motive for wanting to help him: she wanted him on her side, for the sake of her crusade against Division. Plain and simple, but first things first, "baby steps". She knew her primary motive - wanting him by her side, in her life - would always be swept aside as long as Michael had not extracted his revenge on Kasim. Without revenge there would be no closure for him and without closure she knew he would never be able to leave Division and he would most certainly not allow himself to feel for her what she so desperately felt for him.

They had worked well together, like before, falling back into flirtatious camaraderie with ease. Until Division entered the picture... Things went to hell quickly. Michael got taken and was tortured by Kasim and his henchmen and when Nikita found and freed him, he repaid her by literally leaving her out in the cold. Choosing to risk his own life on his quest to extract revenge instead of staying with her and waiting for another day.

She went after him of course, unable to let him do what he was determined to do. Unable to give up on him, on them, she'd told him she wouldn't let him say goodbye, told him there are more important things than revenge, told him he had something to live for, told him he had her. He all but threw it back in her face. How much that pained her she didn't realise at the time. Her relief at being able to stop him just in time blocking out everything else she might have felt.

The pain set in after, when she'd written to Alex that she'd found but then lost him. No use denying she was hurt that he quite possibly didn't feel the way about her, as she did about him. Maybe she had deluded herself all along. Sure sparks flew when she and Michael were in each others vicinity, but maybe to him that was all it was. Maybe she was the only one that had fallen in love, maybe to him it wasn't more than fleeting sexual attraction. In the end it hadn't mattered all that much to her. Fact of the matter was, she knew she loved him and no matter if those feelings were reciprocated or not, she acted on them anyway. She had put him first over her mission to destroy Division and would probably keep putting him first because for her there was no way imaginable it could ever be the other way around. She'd lost Daniel to Division, she wasn't about to lose Michael to them too. Whether he liked it or not.

That didn't mean it hurt any less that Michael had not chosen her or what she offered him, but instead chose to risk his life in trying to take Kasim's, his need to avenge his family outweighing all. This knowledge provoked a feeling of despair in her so profound, it left her feeling cold throughout. But all things considered, even though she knew loss all to well, she had no idea what losing a child did to a parent, so Nikita told herself wallowing in self-pity wasn't allowed. Heartsore nonetheless she'd had trouble putting him out of her mind and focusing on her own mission. Trouble focusing on almost everything, if she was being honest. Something she could ill afford, but wasn't able to fix either. No matter what she did, she'd felt that hollow ache inside.

Relief came first in the form of disbelief and then anger as he'd fired a rocket at her best chance of escape when she and Owen had freed Ryan. The disproportional burst of violence proving him to be Percy's man not only set the truck aflame but also burned some of that hollow ache away, replacing it with bitter determination. A small part of her wondering how she could have been so wrong about him…

Relief came second in a glance, hers and Michael's eyes briefly meeting when she'd escaped Amanda and was fleeing Division. Deeply buried feelings came back to life as they connected, making both of them hesitate at a crucial moment. The determination to stay on mission turned a little less bitter as they connected and remembered for only a second that hurt was not everything they had ever had between them.

The third time relief came, was when hope sparked brightly as he grabbed her arm, dragging her behind him as they escaped a sauna full of Russian mobsters. Those bright sparks of hope had seemed to burn themselves up a moment later as he pulled a gun on her in an alley, but she could still see embers of it when he put Alex's wellbeing over procuring the oculus. She hadn't been mistaken, the Michael she had fallen in love with all those years ago had not been replaced by a Michael that only existed to do his misguided duty in order to get his overdue revenge. Working together to save Alex presented them with the opportunity to talk a little about what happened in Uzbekistan. Michael venting his frustration and Nikita - in venting some of her own, confessed to loving him, in not so many words. Promising him once again to do anything to help him get Kasim.

After that the hollow ache inside lessened to a dull ache of longing she was well used to living with and Nikita had felt somewhat confident again that someday things could be different, that he would eventually find his way to her. She just hadn't expected it to be quite the way it turned out to be...

* * *

"Ask me how I got here."

Years ago on their first overseas mission alone together she had said to Michael he could surprise her anytime. At the time she couldn't have guessed she would now get her third unpleasant surprise from him in nearly as many months. Where she thought she'd been hurt by his blunt utterance of not trusting her that first time and rather giving up his life than missing out on the first opportunity for revenge, it was nothing compared to what she felt now. She'd never thought there would come a day when she would actually be afraid of him.

"Ask me how I got here." Not a question, a demand. Weapon aimed at her, blind rage in his eyes, fury in his voice and the icy grip that held her heart hostage spreading a cold feeling of dread throughout her whole body.

As it turned out there was no reasoning with him after he saw Alex's tracking signal lighting up Nikita's computer screen when the young agent called her anew. And so she resorted to something she thought she'd never do again, she begged "Michael. Michael, please!"

"Please what?" He had spat the last word at her. Then added almost mockingly, "Don't do this to you?"

A plea in her eyes, her voice barely raised above a whisper, "Don't do this to us."

He shot at her computer screen, blowing it to bits. Then he shot at her with harsh words as she recoiled from the blast of the gunshot, "There is no us, there never was."

The icy hand around her heart tightened its grip so much it incapacitated her. Deeply hurt she folded in on herself as he walked from her loft. Tears welled in her eyes unbidden and all too familiar feelings of loss paralysed her. Michael believing she'd deliberately played him by keeping Kasim out of his reach, was a death blow to the fragile understanding they'd created between them when they teamed up to rescue Alex from Vladimir Ivanov. If he'd made up his mind there would be no way she'd make him believe he was wrong, and he had made up his mind. The look in his eyes when he blew up her computer had told her so. To him she was the enemy, to her he was irretrievably lost.

When Daniel died, she was incredibly sad and incredibly angry at the same time, vowing to take down Division had been her way to deal with the grief and also the immense guilt his death provoked in her. What she felt now didn't compare to what she felt then, in some ways this was worse. He was her mentor, her trainer, her handler. At one point he knew her better than she knew herself. Michael had trusted in her, built her up, taught her, confided in her, made her feel like she could do anything and then she fell in love with him. At first she thought maybe she'd imprinted on him, but when she realised she still loved him despite all their history and despite the fact that she loved Daniel too, only differently... it was like a slap in the face.

She should have known. The Nikita that loved Daniel was only part of who she really was. It hadn't been the part that had been hurt so deeply that even taking another breath was painful beyond imagining, her poor heart shredded to pieces because Michael had sent her away. But she hadn't taken up with Daniel to try and fill the void Michael left behind. No, that void she had sealed of meticulously to prevent herself from being swallowed whole by it.

The part of her that loved Daniel was the part of her that was visible to the outside world. The part that had need of normalcy in order to solidify her cover and to be able to live the life she was forced to live by Division, by Michael. She hadn't expected to want that part of her to be all of her so much that she had actually convinced herself it a possibility, but Daniel was such a kind and good man. He showered her with the affection she so desperately craved. She just couldn't help falling in love with him and the life she had with him. Falling in love with what he offered her even though she knew it was all based on his incomplete view of her. The Nikita Michael had seen, the Nikita that fell in love with Michael, was all of her. He knew everything there was to know about her, where she came from, what she'd done and what she had to do still. With just one look or a fleeting touch Michael made her feel accepted, worthwhile and most of all like she belonged. Belonged to him, with him.

Rule number one: no relationships for Division agents, no good will ever come of them. In all those years they had only kissed once, flirted a lot more admittedly. But bereft she felt, her heart shattering into tiny splintery pieces anew. Every single one of them cutting through her in a way she hadn't been able to recall from the first time.

She didn't sit there long, grieving for something that – forcing herself to look at it rationally, had at most been nothing more than a beautiful promise of what could have been. She closed off the void that threatened to overtake her. She had Alex to think about, Alex's well-being was most important now. And she didn't trust Michael anymore to not make good on his cruel threat against her. Grief turned into anger of her own, and she got to work.

The next time she spoke to Michael, she turned the tables on him, throwing his own threat back in his face. She was livid that he'd dared putting her in danger, that he'd threatened Alex's life, livid that he'd diminished everything that she had ever offered him to worthlessness. She was determined to walk away from this standoff he had so willingly created with as much as she could to at least fulfil the mission she would no longer put second to him. "You'll regret this", he threatened her over the phone. He couldn't have known she already did and was sure she would for a long time to come. But that hadn't stopped her from voicing a threat of her own, "One of us will". Her anger at him overruling anything else she ever felt for him, the lid on the void holding.

She was as underprepared for the outcome as Michael had been. She shouldn't have been surprised Kasim was actually Division and that Percy had purposely recruited Michael after orchestrating the failed attempt on his life that killed his wife and young daughter instead, but she was. That wasn't even the kicker though, and neither was the fact that Michael left the safe house with Kasim still breathing, although she hadn't expected that either. She'd surprised herself even when she shot Kasim in cold blood without feeling anything. But the thing that surprised her most was Michael's confession of having come to double cross her.

She was only just coming to terms with the depth of his grief as he told her about the broken dreams of his family's future, a happy ever after smothered, cruelly snuffed out before it came to be. She knew loss and because of that couldn't imagine getting past something like that herself. The answer to how anyone survived something like that was clear though with his last confession... The lid on the void threatened to give way even though some small part of her recognised he was trying to tell her he was sorry. Sorry for what though? Sorry for not recognising sooner who he'd become at the hands of Percy? Sorry he'd dragged her into this, turned her into an ordinary errand girl? Sorry for putting her life on the line as though she was nothing more than a means to an end? Just like she always had been, nothing more than a useful commodity to be discarded when it had outlived its usefulness. First to the foster families she got dumped with, then to Division. And now he had used her in the same way too. She couldn't get her mind around it, needed at least a little time to process. Numb with pain and shock over everything that had happened to and between them in the last sixty hours she hadn't taken the possibility of him betraying her into account at all and she could only reply, "Well, you didn't".

Feeling there really wasn't anything left to say anymore, she left him alone to his grief as she walked away from him and the safe house where she'd once believed she and her former mentor had tentatively laid down the foundation from which they'd someday build their undeniable connection into something more. That foundation lay in shambles now, mostly by Michael's doing but she knew very well she had had a hand in it too. Division - as much as she hated it and refused to give it any more power than it already had over her life - was such a part of both of them, that she actually thought herself foolish for ever thinking it would not touch her and Michael at the core of what they might be to each other. But it had. And in an utterly destructive way too it seemed. Coming to terms with that was something they would both need to figure out on their own.

She had been so dazed by all of it, that she could not even remember how she had gotten to the airport and on the first flight back to the United States. She remembered closing her eyes as soon as she had taken her seat on the plane and not waking up until they landed. That this could have gotten her killed several times over seeing as she was now not only Division's number one target but Gogol's too, wasn't forefront on her mind. At that moment she hadn't even cared one way or the other.

When she disembarked the plane, she forced herself to snap out of it, focussing on Alex instead. Nikita set upon procuring a burner phone and a car to get back to the loft. For all she knew Michael could have had Division raid it as soon as she'd left for Russia three days ago. No, no, he wouldn't have done that. But then again, she'd never thought he would even think about double crossing her either. Maybe a strike team would be laying in wait for her once she got there... No. Michael wouldn't have let her walk into trap, if he truly wanted to be rid of her he could have done so quite easily in Russia. Instead he had tried to come clean with her, told her he hated the man he'd become.

While driving, Nikita placed a few phone calls setting things in motion for Alex to safely disappear from Division's radar as soon as and left instructions for her on a secure server just in case. That done she was only an hour into the four hour drive it would take to get to the loft. Three hours to go, she spent one of them berating herself for letting her guard down the way she had while getting out of Russia. Two hours to go, the impact of all that had happened to cause her to let her guard down as such, hit her anew. Her eyes welled and silent tears ran down her cheeks. In sympathy the skies opened up and poured their anguish in the form of heavy rain.

Heavy rain turned into a drizzle and tears dried on their own while Nikita thought about how everything had spiralled out of her control so fast. Michael knew about the loft, she didn't know what kind of implications that might have in the short run and couldn't bring herself to think about it long. She'd made sure Alex would be safe no matter what. Beyond that she hadn't been able to make any real plans. Not on her housing situation and most definitely not on how she would continue her fight against Division and how Michael might factor into that now. Thanks to Kasim, Michael now knew Percy had betrayed him in the worst way before Michael had ever even heard of his name or committed himself to Division's service. But over the last few days it had also become painfully clear to Nikita that after nearly ten years of service, Division's ways were thoroughly ingrained in Michael. She also knew this wasn't something that he had actively incorporated into himself. It had just happened to him, another byproduct of his hunger for revenge. Another thing he had been burdened with, courtesy of Percy.

Keeping the void firmly closed up, she went over the events of the last day again. She understood how profoundly disillusioned Michael must feel. She also understood that his grief over his family had never really dissipated to being tolerable and she could very much relate to the fact that he thought getting revenge would help with that. What she couldn't resign herself to was how far he had been willing to go to get it, even choosing to believe she would actively keep it from him and forcing her to 'change' that. Risking her life in the short and long term in the process. She believed him incapable of not caring and had told him so standing in the snow in front of the Russian safe house. Part of her had already started to forgive him for what he had put her through, when he tried to prove her wrong by confessing he had planned to double cross her. That had been it for her. It was just too much to handle, brought back too much pain from her past. She had had to leave, she had no answer to that nor did she want to consider one at that moment. The man she had been in love with for so long, the man whom she thought knew her through and through, the man she had thought would at least remember that she wouldn't purposely hurt the people she loved, had planned to deliver the ultimate betrayal to her. She felt torn between empathy for Michael and all that he had suffered at Percy's hand and hurt that he'd seemingly pushed her aside so easily in favour of his cause. She couldn't possibly be in love with a man that had been so ready to hang her out to dry, could she? Even if he was sorry afterwards. She shook her head, eyes welling again. She had no idea what all of it meant or how this would affect the way she planned on destroying Division and killing Percy. If Michael hadn't beaten her to it already. All she knew was that she couldn't think about it very clearly yet, the emotional wounds too big and too fresh right now.

* * *

Nothing resolved, Nikita at least found the loft secure upon arrival. Nothing out of place and no traces of anyone having been there while she was in Russia. Even cleaners left traces if you knew what to look for so Nikita felt assured enough to not abandon the loft immediately.

Tear streaks were rinsed away by a hot shower that set her skin aglow but did nothing to alleviate the cold inside of her. Dressed in an oversized comfy sweater pulled on hastily over her underwear she had made herself some tea. Hoping this would help settle the unease that had been her companion ever since she'd walked in and found Michael sitting in a chair with a gun trained on her. She wouldn't be able to sleep like this and she was absolutely exhausted, not just from sleep deprivation, but mostly from the emotional rollercoaster she'd been on.

Nikita took her seat behind her new computer to check a few of her online sources as a necessary and useful distraction. She couldn't concentrate long enough to find or do anything useful though. Her thoughts returned to Michael every few minutes. To the pain he caused her but also to the pain he – on reflection, had so obviously been in himself when he'd told her about the future he had planned with Hayley and Liz, a future that had been so brutally ripped away from him. Ultimately leaving him an empty shell of the man he had once been. Her own hurt paled somewhat as worry over him grew. She wondered where he was, if he was safe. She wondered if she would ever have the chance to talk to him again. She wondered if she'd ever see him again period. She needed to know if she had been wrong about him all along, if she had been wrong to love him…

It all left her feeling thoroughly dejected but she decided wondering and worrying would get her nowhere fast either so she turned off the computer to call it a night. Maybe she would be able to look at it differently tomorrow.

The sound of footsteps entering made her swivel her chair around. There he was. Just like that. He walked in slowly, as if she'd conjured him out of thin air by just thinking about him. Relief at seeing he was okay physically was diminished quickly by the raging feelings of conflict about him still inside her. What had he come here for? She self-consciously tugged on the hem of her sweater just before her feet touched the floor. Arms hanging limply beside her, she took a few tentative steps towards him.

"You were right." Whatever she had expected him to say, this wasn't it. What was she right about? Percy? Revenge not being worth everything when you have someone that loves you? Advancing a little more, she shook her head slowly in disbelief. "No", only a whisper of a breath.

"Yeah, you were right." Michael contradicted her with certainty, holding her gaze with his. "If I had just listened to you five years ago…"

Nikita didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She seriously opted to do both and at length, but it seemed she had no more tears to shed and the muscles in her face couldn't even manage a small smile. Keeping eye contact, her brow furrowed the tiniest bit. He was trying to offer her an apology. She didn't want one, like she hadn't wanted one standing in the Russian snow. Not yet. Not with everything so fresh, when she couldn't put it in the right perspective, her head decided. It won out over her heart that fluttered in her breast at just having him in the same room as her. She loved him, she thought she probably always would. But she wasn't so sure anymore that they would be stronger together. She also knew her poor heart would forgive him just about anything if her head would just let it. It didn't.

"... things could have been different", he released her gaze, lowering his eyes to the floor. In embarrassment for what he'd put her through? Remorse? She couldn't be sure. Right now she wasn't sure of a lot of things anymore. She loved him, he knew it too. Or at least she thought he knew. She didn't want to fight him and she didn't want him to fight her anymore either. The price was too high. The last few days had made that more than clear. The hurt they inflicted on each other when they fought with their hands and feet, turned out to be nothing in comparison to the damage they did when they added words to the mix. They both had a mean streak a mile wide when they were hurt.

Her heart rebelled at her mind as she told him the only thing she did know, "Things will be different". Nothing would ever be easy for them and she was just too tired to get into this with him right now. It would have to wait. So with regret in her eyes she started to turn away from him, fully expecting him to leave.

He didn't. In two steps he was able to reach for her. His hand cupping her jaw, he turned her face up and to his. And then he kissed her, kissed her with such conviction that Nikita couldn't do anything but kiss him back. Butterflies took flight in her stomach as her hands found their way from his shoulders to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. Michael poured everything he felt for her into that kiss, willing her to see, to believe.

Her lips tingled as she broke their kiss, surprised and slightly overwhelmed. His thumbs stroked gently over her collarbones as his eyes found hers again. Silently asking, making sure this was okay, telling her he wanted this, that he wanted her, needed her. More than anything. Asking her if she wanted this too, if she wanted him still. That he'd been a fool... That they belonged together. And just like that her heart won out over her head and their mouths found each other for the second time. Tentatively at first, but turning passionate quickly when Michael once again took control. She couldn't deny him, not when she needed him so much herself. Only he could alleviate the pain she had been in, the pain for the most part he had caused.

Nikita felt like her heart would beat straight out of her chest as Michael trailed his hands slowly down the sides of her breasts, over her ribs and down to her buttocks. A flutter went through her stomach as he bent his knees slightly and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as Michael turned them around and took a few unsteady steps. His hands came up to rest against the wall, bracing her as he pushed her up against it. His tongue caressed hers heatedly as it mimicked what he wanted to do to her with another part of his anatomy. He pressed his pelvis into hers as one hand snaked up to tangle in her long dark tresses. Nikita thought she might go up in flames as the hand still shielding her from the wall trailed from her shoulder down her back to her bottom over her outer thigh and passed her knee to her shin, pushing her calf tightly against his buttock while repeating the sensuous motion with his hips, letting her feel what she did to him, how much he needed her. She gave an answering thrust, sure he could feel her damp heat through several layers of clothing, sending a shiver of anticipation up both their spines.

Michael needed no more encouragement. As far as answers went this apparently had been the one he was looking for. He released her shin to place his hand on the underside of her leg, his other hand cradling her head and pressing her chest into his with his forearm as he rocked her against him as though offering himself to her, before turning around again and crossing the short distance to her tiny bed. He climbed up with her in his arms. Her arms and legs still wrapped around him. Letting go of her leg, he freed one arm to support their combined weight as he sat on his knees, lowering her down gently on the mattress never once breaking their kiss.

Nikita like Michael before, tried to convey everything she felt for him with that kiss, a heady mix of lust and love, spiced with traces of lingering anger and sadness. She held him to her more tightly, stroking him underneath his coat from his flanks to his shoulder blades. Leaning back a little Michael's hands started to trail their own path up her sides, taking her sweater with them on their slow ascent. Sitting up with her in his lap, they parted long enough for Michael to lift the garment the last way up and off of her. Nikita pushed Michael's coat off his shoulders and with his help made short work of his shirt, both ended up on the floor with her sweater.

Michael lowered her back to the bed and locked eyes with her, softly nipping at her lips. Her hands traveled over his shoulders, fingertips exploring the muscles of his back in a loving caress. By silent agreement no words were spoken. Words had caused so much damage already. This would be about finding each other again, about connecting anew.

His fingers stroked her hair back tenderly, the look in his eyes telling her everything she needed to know in this moment, the rest they would figure out later. Overwhelmed again by the depth of her feelings for him, her eyes fluttered closed again. With his free hand Michael reached for one of hers and finding it, he intertwined their fingers and brought it up and pressed the back of it to his heart, letting her feel its frantic beat as the fingers of his other hand traced the edges of the bruise on her cheek before kissing it lightly. A gesture so tender and heartfelt it pierced Nikita to the core. For a few seconds she closed her eyes more tightly, afraid she might dissolve into tears. Her free hand stroked up to his shoulder, fingers tightening on the muscle, as she tried not to be overpowered by the strong emotions he so easily coaxed forward in her.

Michael seemed to pick up on her inner struggle and rested his forehead against hers, his warm breath fanning over her as she fought to control her own breathing. Seconds passed before Nikita tilted her head back and guided his mouth back to hers, kissing him anew with fiery passion, nails lightly scratching at his stubble. Now it was Michael's turn to be overwhelmed, she opened her eyes just in time to see him close his as he gave himself up to her kisses. Hands roaming, exploring, touching every bit of flesh they could, it soon wasn't enough.

Michael toe'ed off his shoes, trailing feather light kisses along Nikita's jaw, down her throat, across her breastbone to the edge of her black top. Her fingers disappeared in his hair as his teased along her stomach, one hand pulling the edge of her panties down slightly as the other pushed up her top the tiniest bit. His lips left the tops of her breasts to kiss the sliver of skin he had bared. Nikita let out a shaky sigh as Michael kissed his way up her stomach, following the progress his hands made in baring her further to him as he slowly pulled up her top further and further until just the undersides of her breasts were visible. A shiver of excitement ran up her spine, her breath hitching in her throat. Her fingers tightened in his hair as he nipped at the soft mounds. Pushing her top up the last bit, he trailed his thumbs over her puckered nipples. Nikita pressed her pelvis into his once more and this time it was Michael's turn to let out a shaky breath at the combined sensations of seeing and feeling her more intimately than ever before. Her fingers released his hair as he divested her of her top. He kissed her lips once, twice before descending again and tasting her lovely breasts for the first time. Nikita's hands grabbed at his shoulders as her spine curled itself backwards, lifting her back up from the bed, her head tilted backwards into the pillow as she offered herself to him. Michael's hands trailed across her ribs again, down her stomach and grasped at just the edge of her panties.

It was too much and not nearly enough at the same time for Nikita. Feeling his mouth covering first one nipple and then the other, his knuckles on her hipbones, another rush of pure desire swept through her. She wanted him. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted anyone and she wanted him now. And judging by the hardness she currently felt straining through his pants against her thigh, she didn't think Michael would mind speeding things up a little, they could go slow next time.

She pushed off her yoga slippers letting them clatter on to the floor as her hands found their way along his stomach, her nails tickling the sparse hair just below his belly button. He released her breast and sucked in a sharp breath as the tips of her fingers delved between his stomach and the waistband of his trousers. The next moment those fingers were avidly working to free his belt from its buckle and the button that had been underneath it from its hole. The brush of her hands against him as she tried to free him was nearly his undoing. Replacing her hands with his, he got up and removed the last of his clothes at lightning speed before joining her back on the bed. Beautiful, Nikita thought, looking at him naked for the first time, she couldn't think anything else except that he was so incredibly beautiful. A little sorry he hadn't given her more time to admire him in all his glory, Nikita welcomed him back by bringing his head to hers again, fingers outlining his jaw, curling around his neck, kissing him slowly, sensually.

Michael lowered himself to her again, careful not to rest his full weight on her, savouring the feeling of his bare skin against hers, nothing between them now save for Nikita's black underwear. One leg between hers, he rubbed it gently against her centre as his fingers tangled in her long tresses once more. Nikita took in a shallow breath and pressed herself down harder on his thigh, trying to find some semblance of relief. Michael felt the warm moistness of her through the cotton scrap still covering her against the skin of his thigh. Suddenly that little cotton scrap seemed the most offensive piece of material in the world and he couldn't tolerate it any longer. He needed to feel all of her against all of him, now. Michael sat up slightly, breaking their kiss while his hands travelled down to the edge of her high cut briefs again and slowly began to edge them past her hips. Nikita shifted her leg from between his and together they got rid of the last barrier between them.

He took a moment to take in her perfect naked beauty, before he crawled over her again, sliding his hands up her shoulder blades and up into her hair, cupping her head delicately in his hands as his lips first kissed the hollow between her breasts and then descended on hers again. She was so strong and fierce all the time, dangerous too and now here she was, soft and pliable underneath him, open to his touch and kisses. His wildest dreams hadn't even begun to prepare him for all the feelings she evoked in him. To say Michael was absolutely in awe would have been the understatement of the century.

Nikita's hands stroked softly up his torso, grazing his nipples before reaching around him and coming to rest on his broad shoulders. She hugged him to her, the feeling of their chests pressed together caused her breath to catch in her throat. Their kiss deepened as Michael once again slid one leg between hers, stomachs touching, their sexes not quite. Nikita lifted her hips, trying to touch as much of his body with hers. Michael stroked one hand over her shoulder and upper arm, then down her side and over her hip, clasping her leg and bending it upwards, resting it against his own hip. Nikita sighed as their kiss ended and trailed one of her hands down his body. Just before she reached his groin, Michael stopped her progress, releasing her leg and grasping her questing hand.

Entwining their fingers again, he brought her hand up to his mouth, kissing her fingers. Beseeching her with his eyes to keep it there as he placed their joined hands between their chests over her heart. Telling her this would be over much too soon if she would touch him there. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. She understood all to well when only the slightest touch by him set her skin aflame. Satisfied with the look she gave him, he smiled and captured her lips with his in two short kisses while he untangled his fingers from hers.

Michaels hand started its descent anew, his touch a featherlight caress down her side, over her bottom and tickling down her leg only to cross over her uplifted knee to the inside of her thigh, ever so slowly travelling up while he moved her other leg with his, spreading her to his touch. The anticipation nearly undid her, she twisted her pelvis against him as the need to have him touch her became too much to resist. And so she reneged on their silent agreement and lifted her hand from her chest to his, stroking a nipple and palming his pectoral muscle as she traced the outline of the muscles in his back with just the fingertips of her other hand. They locked eyes again as his wandering hand finally touched her where she wept for him. A delicious shudder travelled through her as his fingers found her warm, wet and ready. Taking her mouth in a ravishing kiss, he traced his fingers upwards, spreading her juices until he reached the centre of her pleasure. Stroking the bundle of nerves just a handful of times, he felt her body stiffen just before her release came over her. Breaking the kiss on a gasp, her eyes closed and her mouth formed a perfect O as he slid two fingers down and inside of her, reaping the rewards of his efforts as he felt her inner muscles contracting around them. Her bent leg closed tightly over his forearm and his own leg as he pressed the heel of his hand against her, prolonging her pleasure. His fingers stroking her gently through her orgasm as she held onto him tightly, her nails biting into his shoulders as she rode out the waves.

Nuzzling her hair and kissing his way over her eyebrow and her cheek, she turned her face towards him, hungry for every tender caress he bestowed upon her. The tension in her arms and legs ceased and her breathing slowed, her face relaxing she opened her eyes to find Michael smiling that heart-stopping half grin of his down at her just before he kissed her lips again. He slowly withdrew his fingers from her and she had to close her suddenly watering eyes at the loss. Holding him to her tightly, she struggled to regain control of her wayward emotions, a sob threatening to catch in her throat. And then Michael's hand was stroking over her stomach, drawing slow circles before reaching behind her and manoeuvring them both so he could rest between her legs completely. He hitched her still bent leg up and over his hip and she felt the tip of his hard length touching her entrance. Her eyes still closed she heaved a shuddering sigh at the contact. She raised her other leg, enveloping him tightly and moved her hips, trying to catch him when Michael's hand grasped one of them, stilling her. She struggled a bit, but when he kissed her chin, and then her bottom lip, she gave in. Her breath came out in short puffs. Michael held himself completely still, savouring the moment, except for the hand that let go of her hip to cup her breast, his thumb grazing her nipple as the rest of his fingers kneaded her flesh.

She felt, rather than saw his gaze upon her and when he kissed the tip of her nose, she finally opened her eyes again. His hand left her breast to come up to her face. With his thumb he stroked her eyebrow and then he lowered his mouth to hers again, catching her in a passionate kiss just as he pushed the tip of himself inside of her. Joining them as one for the first time.

Nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared either one of them for how right this felt. Perfect, meant to be, like finally coming home…

Nikita wrapped her other leg around him and with her feet urged him to go deeper as one hand found its way to his lower back and the other disappeared in his hair. Holding him to her, kissing him back fiercely. Michael was powerless to do anything but oblige and soon sighs turned to harsh breaths and moans as they lost themselves in each other. Kisses turned into nips and strokes to grasps as they climbed higher and higher. And when Michael felt she was close, he caught her eyes again with his. Wanting, no absolutely needing to have that connection with her as she reached her peak once more.

He thrust into her deeply and spoke the first words between them since he stepped inside her loft tonight. "I love you", a breathy whisper over her face, it sent her over the edge and into ecstasy. And this time when tears welled in her eyes, she couldn't stop them from rolling over her cheeks and into her hair as Michael gave one last powerful stroke into her and lost himself to the storm as well. Burying his face in her neck, he held her to him tightly as he unlocked one of her legs from around his waist and rolled them to their sides, not wanting to crush her underneath his full weight as they rode out the aftershocks together.

* * *

It took them both a while to come down, and when they did Michael felt wetness softly trickling down his neck. Feelings of worry replaced the ecstasy he'd felt when he realised Nikita was weeping still. He tried to lean his head back and look her in the eyes, but in response she held onto him tighter, pressing her face deeper into his neck. She held onto him as though he was the only thing that kept her from drowning. Oh Nikita. The strongest woman he'd ever met, reduced to tears just after they'd made love for the first time. It broke his heart.

He needed to know what was going through her head. He had committed a horrible act against her in getting his revenge, breaking her trust, using her for his own gain. And they hadn't talked about any of it. He'd still been searching for the right words to tell her how truly sorry he was, to ask her if she could ever find it in her heart to forgive him when she'd told him things would be different and dismissed him by turning away from him. A sense of urgency had overcome him then. He couldn't let her walk away, not again. Not when she was the only thing in the world that made any sense to him anymore. He couldn't lose her too. So he'd acted on impulse and kissed her, trying to put into touch what he couldn't put into words. Things had escalated quickly he knew, the dormant fire between them blazing into an inferno at the first touch. He also knew what happened wasn't quite fair to Nikita. She had always craved human contact and as strong as she was in every other part of life, he knew she was near powerless to resist affection. He sighed, he was sorry about not fully taking into account what effect this course of action could have on her, but he didn't regret what had happened. They needed to talk though, the sooner the better.

Stroking her hair and bestowing a gentle kiss upon her shoulder he called to her, "Nikita?" She didn't reply. "Nikita? Talk to me please." Again nothing, except for a hiccuping sob. Thoroughly alarmed by now he placed his hand on her hip and tried to disengage them. That did get him a response. She tightened her leg around him and pleaded in a hoarse voice, "No. Stay, please." His hand left her hip to stroke over her back, a soothing butterfly light caress meant to calm and comfort. "Alright", he kissed her shoulder again. Pulling at the sheets until he could cover them both with one, he enveloped her again in his arms, stroking her hair, her spine, her shoulder blades and rubbed his cheek against the top of her head, wanting more than anything for her to feel safe and loved. God, after everything he'd put her through... Minutes passed and eventually her breathing evened out and tears stopped flowing. He thought she might have fallen asleep. He wouldn't have been surprised, she had looked drawn and tired when he found her tonight. He let out a weary sigh, "I'm sorry, Nikita." Just a gravelly whisper, but she heard him. She turned her face slightly to reply just as softly, "Don't. Doesn't matter now."

Michael let out another sigh, holding on to her a little tighter. She seldom asked for anything for herself and forgave so easily. He didn't deserve that, not when it came to this, not even when a short while ago nothing had existed for both of them aside from the rightness of the joining of their bodies. "It does", he said simply.

Nikita meant what she said though, it all didn't really matter anymore when the truth of their connection was so incredibly obvious. Nothing mattered except the fact that after a long and painful road they had found each other again despite every curveball Percy and Amanda had thrown at them. Division's machinations fading in the face of what they had shared just now. Nikita hadn't dissolved into tears because of everything that had happened before Michael came to the loft tonight, she'd cried because of something else entirely. Michael loved her, she knew that not because he had said so at the height of passion. No, she knew because of everything he'd done to get them both there. Every touch, every caress, every look and every kiss they had shared told her so, more loudly than words ever could. Never had a man made her feel so much as Michael did, she had been amazed and overwhelmed and she'd be damned if she'd let Division get between them over a few tears she'd shed in wonder and relief.

Michael felt her shake her head before he saw it as she leaned backwards to look him in the eyes, "No. Not here, not now." He sensed she wasn't done yet, so he kept quiet while his thumb stroked the wetness that still lingered there from her cheek. They were silent for a bit, Nikita trying to figure out how to get both of them through this conversation relatively unscathed as she knew that he couldn't just let it go and Michael waiting patiently for the wheels in her head to stop turning as he saw her struggle with what she was going to say.

As conflicted and betrayed as she had felt before Michael had showed up tonight, now it was all clear to her. Yes he had hurt her, he had hurt her beyond what she ever could have imagined. But that was her mistake. She knew that this was the way Division worked. Intricate plots created confusion, destroyed trust, wreaked havoc upon its subjects - or ex-subject as the case may be - and most of all made sure they wouldn't form lasting bonds with anyone. She should have known that this was something likely to happen when she took on the Black Ops organisation. Michael though, he believed and probably still did that Division served a higher purpose and she didn't want to get into a lengthy discussion about it while she lay in his arms after they had just made love for the first time, not while he was still buried inside of her…

"We were fooled...", she started. "... We chose to believe something else instead of believing each other, because that is what they taught us to do…"

Michael cut her off, shaking his head, "I was fooled, I didn't believe you..." Nikita laid her palm against his cheek and kissed him softly, "It's okay, things are different now...". The last part came out rather questioningly, as if she wasn't totally sure of her own words. How she could be so sure of herself one minute and doubtful the next? Michael knew he had himself to blame for that. He responded instantly, "Yes", not wanting her to doubt herself or him for a second. "Yes, they are", he emphasised by kissing the words on her lips. He didn't really feel any better about any of it, least of all about Nikita crying in the aftermath of their lovemaking, but he also knew she was stubborn enough not to let him deter her from what she'd told him as the simplest truth.

Running his fingers through her hair Michael kissed her again languidly and then rolled onto his back slowly, taking Nikita with him to lie on top of him, keeping their bodies intimately connected. The friction of their movement caused him to twitch and swell inside of her and she answered it by squeezing her inner muscles around him. He moaned and closed his eyes, while he brought her face to his to kiss her deeply once more. Nikita sighed and wiggled a bit, causing Michael to drop his hands to her hips, stilling her movements. This conversation wasn't over yet, "Nikita..."

A little insecure about why he'd put a stop to her advancements, her body tensed and she lowered her eyes as tough he'd chastised her. He frowned, how could she think for a second he didn't want her, when it took all of his willpower and a lot of thinking about horrid things, just to keep from rolling her underneath him and losing himself once more in all the erotic delight her body had to offer. He would spend forever making up to her for ever bringing her down so much that she would doubt herself so quickly. Fingers placed gently under her chin, he tilted her face up. Tracing his other hand lightly up her smooth back, he coaxed her to look at him again. Lifting up his head to kiss her, he felt her relax slowly.

Still a bit confused, she asked him, "What happens now?". She knew what she wanted, she wanted him with her. As her lover and as her partner against Division too, but Michael had never seemed remotely interested to take that step…

"I told Percy I was with him 100 percent." Nikita's eyes shot to his. Seeing the flash of panic cross over her beautiful features, Michael ignored the invisible stab to his heart and hastened to reassure her, "I still want to put a bullet in his brain Nikita. I want him to pay, but you were right too when you said he can't be taken down while he still has those black boxes in place. I want to help you, I want us to find and destroy them together so that we can destroy Percy too." Tears welled in her eyes and happiness bubbled up inside of her. She nodded, smiling a watery smile as she touched her lips to his to seal the deal.

Michael kissed her back until he felt her sigh. She was exhausted, she'd been through so much on minimal sleep the past few days, she needed to rest and more than anything right now, he wanted to hold her in his arms as she slept. He brushed her lips with his once more before he coaxed her to rest her head underneath his chin. Pulling the sheet further up to prevent her from getting cold and wrapping his arms around her, he lovingly commanded, "Sleep", and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Feeling him more than half hard inside of her, she lifted her head and protested, "But...". He knew exactly what she was going to say when he shook his head and cut her off, confessing with a smirk, "It wouldn't be the first time. Sleep, you need your rest."

She stared at him in disbelief, she wasn't that tired. She doubted she would ever be that tired. But it seemed Michael knew her better after all because when he guided her head to rest on his chest for the second time and placed another kiss against her hair, she felt drowsiness overtake her. Nikita inhaled his scent on a deep breath and rested a hand over his heart as she let herself succumb to slumber, Michael following her only minutes after.

* * *

 _Finis_


End file.
